


Your Someone

by parkersfull



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Bisexual Male Character, Derry (Stephen King), Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay Male Character, High School, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Reddie, Stanlon - Freeform, Teenage Losers Club (IT), benverly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkersfull/pseuds/parkersfull
Summary: "Whatever you choose to become. Whatever road you choose to take. Whoever you decide to love, you will find your someone."
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

One

Dec. 21st, 1988. Derry, Maine

Richie sets his bike against the cold wall. He proceeds to walk down the thin alley, colors of red, green, and blue string lights hanging from side to side above him. He hums to an unknown song that his mother was playing on the radio before leaving the house. As Richie props his right elbow against one of the buildings, he quickly brings his hands back up to the collar of his brown coat and pushes it up against his face. This is his way of shielding himself from the stabbings of winter winds. The alley is discarded of people and there's no noise, except for the swishing of the wind and Richie's heavy breathing that only brings a giant fog up his thick coke-bottled frames. Richie hopes she arrives soon, he can't stand the cold embodiment that December has to offer.

As if someone were listening in on his thoughts, the sound of boots crunching on the snow are heard. Richie looks to his left, unable to depict who is coming into view, but he knows that it's her. Richie can point out the beautiful red-headed ginger anywhere, even if she were to be in a room full of other girls that look just like her. Beverly Marsh could say the same about Richie- they're best friends after all. Richie has always been grateful that she stopped him in his tracks during Freshmen year. He was crying after having left his house one afternoon- his father, Went, had told him that unless he brought his social studies grade back up to an A, he would no longer be able to listen to his music- or any music for that matter, for a whole month. Beverly had been walking down the same sidewalk when she saw the boy wiping his eyes under his black frames. She had grabbed his arm and asked the boy what was wrong, and that's when the friendship between the two had sparked. She was there for him, she's always there for him.

"Hey, prick" she laughs. Richie's lips form into a smile, and he feels as if some of the cold diminished from his body. Once Beverly stands in front of him, she ruffles his hair and motions her hands into her yellow jacket, pulling out a cigarette pack, Marlboro, towards the boy. Every Friday the two Juniors meet up in the alley downtown at exactly 7:30 p.m. Here, they give each other a cigarette pack, depending on who's turn it is. They switch- Richie gave her one last Friday, and now it's Beverly's turn to hand a pack over. Both teenagers agreed on doing this after having an argument with the other losers over whether Richie or Beverly spent more money providing Marlboro's for one another.

"Hey, asshole" he finally responds while accepting the pack from her soft hands. He quickly takes one from it, putting it between his lips. After shoving the pack into his pocket, he shivers all throughout his body. The red-head brings her arms up, as she goes on to light up his cigarette. She raises her eyebrows at him in bewilderment, finally pushing her beautiful hair to the side.

"First of all, I can't believe you just called me that, and second of all, ya know you could've worn the beanie I gave you, like, two days ago right?" Beverly looks down at his thin wobbly legs, then up at his face, laughing, "Jeez you're cold aren't you?" Beverly lights up her own cigarette, giving it a hit. Smoke blows to the right, the wind snatching it away.

"First of all," mimics Richie, "you called me a prick, which, if I recall, isn't a very pleasant word to say to someone, and, second of all," he mimics once again, "I forgot it at home so yes, now I'm paying the consequences." White shiny snow continues to trickle to the ground and the smoke blowing out of both the boy and girls' mouths continue to disperse to the right. Richie sighs.

Beverly cuts the short silence, "So, you comin' to Bill's Christmas party tomorrow?" After having flicked her cigarette to the ground, she reaches into her pocket, pulling out her strawberry chap stick. She gently applies it onto her fragile pursed lips.

"'Course I'm coming", he drops his cigarette, his converse stepping over it, "it wouldn't be a party if I'm not there, since y'know, you guys love me and everything." He looks away from Beverly, instead looking down to the ground. He feels like the ground- stepped on, dirty, and sometimes even broken. Richie is very fragile when it comes to being loved. Sure, he knows that the losers will always help him when he needs it, and that they care for him, but deep down he thinks that they do this out of pity. He feels like he's not loved by anyone, not even his own parents. They expect so much from him- the best grades possible, appropriate behavior in family events and gatherings, and what friends he can and can't hang out with. They're very hard on Richie. If he doesn't do what his parents expect from him, it only makes him feel worse. The only person in the world that has made Richie think he's been loved by before was his Grandfather, but it's kind of hard to be loved by someone that is no longer here. Richie feels as if he's stuck at the bottom of an ocean, his dark, umber-pleading eyes looking up for a hand to reach out to his own. No one reaches out.

Beverly sets her fingers on his chin, forcing him to look into her eyes.

"Look at me Rich, we love you so don't think for even a second that we don't." She plants a kiss to his cheek. "We're a family, you're our family- and yeah, you make way too many mom jokes for us to count, and you never stop talking, but that's our Trashmouth right there. You're our Trashmouth, our Richie Tozier, and we wouldn't want you any other way. We love you no matter what, and I want- no I need you to understand that, goofus."

With this, Richie sighs out of pure relieve. It's hard for him to believe the words that came out of the ginger, but he tries to believe it just for her. His cheeks produce a gentle pink color, and without thinking about what he's about to do, he hugs the life out of his best friend. He quickly pulls away, a bit embarrassed by his action.

"Gee there Bev, I didn't think you'd go on and say those words, you're makin' my dick a little happy" he says. Beverly rolls her eyes and says, "Well, I gotta go, dude, my aunt wants me home soon, gotta help her make dinner". She gives Rich one last sympathetic smile, saying, "I better see you at that party, Rich!" She then heads towards her bike that lies next to Richie's'.

"Tell your aunt I had fun last night and that I'm looking forward to seeing her again tonight!" Richie screams. Beverly flips him off before she's no longer in Richie's view. The white of the sky has taken her. Richie goes on to grab his bike from the wall, ready to hop on- that is, before he heard the wheezing of another boy at the end of the alley.

And there he was. A smaller, incredibly scared boy lies on the cold ground, clutching his sides tightly with his arms. He feels like his life is collapsing along with his airways. His black fanny pack is open, exposing Band-Aids, medications, and cotton balls. In his right hand is his inhaler- empty.

Richie rushes over to the helpless boy, not knowing what to with his hands. He looks at all his belongings and quickly figures out that this freckled boy is in need of medical help. "Hey hey hey, uh, it's alright, you're headed to the pharmacy just a ways down, right?" Richie's wide eyes look down at the frantic kid. Eddie, still wheezing, nods his head three times. He throws his arm over to the boy, signaling him to take the inhaler from him. Richie doesn't take it though. He gently, yet quickly, picks the boy up, bridal style, and runs to the pharmacy as carefully as possible. Eddie looks up at the strange boy's face, then clutches onto his jacket all while burrowing his face downwards on his chest. His wheezing had decreased. Eddie found out at the beginning of his Freshmen year that his mother had always been giving him gazebos, and he's been mad about it ever since. However, what angers him the most is that he continues to rely on the stupid things.

After three minutes, Richie kicks open the pharmacy. At that moment, Richie was glad as hell that the pharmacy updated their closing schedule to 9:00 p.m. The tall boy walks up to the pharmacist, throwing him Eddie's inhaler. "Fill her up please, or get us a new one, I don't know", he quickly says. Richie looks down at Eddie as he waits for the pharmacist to do his job. Once the pharmacist hands Eddie his inhaler, Richie sets him back down. Eddie takes two puffs. He sighs in relief, then looks up at his savior.

"Uh t-thank you so much" The short boy says. Richie looks at the boy in front of him. He's wearing a red jacket, one that fits him far too well, and Richie finds it extremely adorable. He has a blue striped scarf around his neck, light blue jeans, and black converse that look like they've been washed too many times. Eddie frowns, he thinks that the boy found it annoying that he had to drag him to the pharmacy, as he doesn't say a word back to him. Richie snaps out of his little word.

The tall boy finally replies, "O-Oh, yeah, it's no problem...no problemo." He shoves his hands into his jean pockets, and rocks his feet back and forth. The shorter boy focuses on Richie's movements. Something about this boy makes Eddie's stomach twist and turn. It's not until he looks up at his face that he feels his heart just about leave his body. His face, one far too stunning envelopes Eddie's view. His sharp jawline causes Eddie to feel queasy, and he finds his coke-bottled glasses cute. Eddie gives him a quick smile, then heads towards the door that lead to the strong winds. Eddie hopes that the boy inside follows him. It's not until the door closes, causing a small bell to ring throughout the building, that Richie follows outside.

"Hey, are you new here, like, in Derry? Like, do you live here or someth-", before Richie could finish his question, the smaller boy turns around and says "Yeah". Richie walks up closer to him. It's so goddam cold. "Me and my ma moved here just a week ago, I'm starting the rest of my Junior year after winter break." Hearing Eddie say that he's a junior causes Richie to smile widely at the asthmatic. "Oh, and my names Eddie, Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie, it suits him so fucking much oh my gosh.

"I-I'm Richie Tozier." He puts his hand out towards the small freckled boy. Eddie hesitantly pulls his hand out of his pocket, and finally grasps onto the other boy's hand, the two giving it a firm handshake. The two boys feel their cheeks get hot and pink, and they're both grateful that it's not visible in these cold conditions. As the wind blows Richies hair all different ways, he asks, "Wanna follow me back to the alley?" Eddie suddenly tenses up, and takes a careful step back from the boy. "Don't worry Eds, I'm not gonna stab you and leave you there to die." Richie laughs at his absurdity of words, pushing up his glasses as they fall from his nose. "My bike's back there all alone, probably getting burried in the snow. I'll give you a lift home." Eddie gives him a confused yet content look.

"Don't call me Eds, weirdo, and sure, I'll take you up on that lift." Richie looks back to the ground as they walk side by side towards the alley. I'm a weirdo, fuck. Keep fucking up Richie why don't you. Eddie notices Richie's glum expression, and guilt suddenly rushes over him. Was I too hard on him for calling him a weirdo? I didn't think he'd get upset over that. The two hop onto the bike, Eddie's arms grabbing onto the tall boy's waist. Slowly, he fully wraps his arms around them. With that, Richie bikes down to where Eddie instructs him to go, both boys riding in silence the rest of the way.

"This is it" Eddie quietly states. Richie looks at the red mailbox, then up at the white and brown house as he comes to a complete stop in the driveway. As Eddie hops off the bike, Richie realizes that his house is only two blocks down. This causes him to smile once again. "Thank you for the ride, and thank you for helping me get to the pharmacy."

"It's no problem. I seriously thought you were about to die, you scared the shit out of me, dude." Eddie giggles. "Bro it's not funny, what the fuck" Richie reacts. "I think it's funny and cute that you were worried, is all." Did I really just say "cute", fuckfuckfuckfu- "Whatevs man" Richie says as he gives Eddie a playful shove. Eddie turns pink, way too pink for his own good, and he feels his face heat up.

"U-um, I gotta head in now, again, thanks for your help. Also, I hope I see you around again, you're cool." Richie gapes at this, and simply nods his head as he waves goodbye. Eddie walks up to his porch, and before he can close the door shut, Richie yells, "Hey, wait! Do you wanna come to a Christmas party tomorrow? It's at one of my friend's house, but I'm sure they'd be thrilled to have you- to have anotha memba of the group!" Richie states the last part in a British accent, which he occasionally does one of his Voices when he speaks. Eddie smiles, exposing a gentle blush that can now be seen under the porch light. "Of course, just stop by here whenever you're ready for me." With this, Eddie finally shuts his door, and Richie pedals away to his home, a happy expression plastered on his face. He doesn't remember the last time someone has made him this joyful and belonging. He feels as if his world is finally growing some meaning, and that he finally has something different, something special to look forward to tomorrow. Eddie Kaspbrak, he thinks.

*this is my first ever reddie fic and fic in general that i've written, so i ask you all to be kind and keep rude comments, if any, to a minimum :) i hope u all enjoy this journey with me, who knows how long it'll be!*


	2. The Christmas Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha new chapter on new years ;) i hope u guys like this one! *edit: i just realized i said “gazebos” instead of “placebos” pls excuse me lmao, me and eddie share the same brain cells ig*

The following morning Richie got out of bed and headed to the kitchen downstairs. Almost every time he goes downstairs, he bumps his head on a frame that is hanged above a wall at the end of the steps. _Fucking growth spurt,_ he thinks. His father's eyes looks away from his newspaper, and finds them on Richie's presence. He simply nods his head once before continuing to read the paper. His mother, Maggie, had left early to pick up groceries at the local market downtown. Richie quickly eats a bagel spread with cream cheese, practically chugged a lemon-flavored La Croix, _he loves those things_ , then headed back upstairs.

He sat at the foot of his bed. His white walls are covered in Nirvana, Queen, The Beatles, and other music related posters. Sneakers and socks are scattered on the floor, but other than that, his room is surprisingly clean and neat. That's what happens when you have parents that are constantly on your back about being organized and clean. He has an old blue sofa pressed against a wall near his window, and his desk contains staples, papers, a green lamp, and- "Grandfather's letter", Richie breathes out. Before his grandfather had passed away three months ago from cancer, he had written Richie a letter a week before he grew too ill. He moved from Derry with his wife, making it a longer car ride to reach the boy and his family, so he hardly visited for that matter. This is a letter that his grandfather said would help guide the kid during difficult times. Ever since the tall boy lost his grandfather, he's felt pushed back and misaligned. His grandfather was always there for the kid because he realized that his parents had failed at that. Richie had a question? Richie had a problem? Richie needed advice? He would go to him for all that. Then he'd go to the losers, but his grandfather normally had the right answers.

Richie props himself off his bed, and walks over to his desk, to the letter. _"For Richard Tozier"._ Richie grabs the brown letter from it's original place, and walks back over to his bed. For a moment, all Richie does is stare at the paper. Before giving a last shaky breath, he opens it up. It read as followed:

_Richie, my son_

_I know that it's been difficult for you these past weeks. I can tell that you've been dragging yourself down lately, I see it in your face. You're changing. You're growing. For heavens sake, you're a Junior now, my boy! I understand that you're parents haven't been parents, or haven't been parents ever for that matter. They push you, and I see that. Their expectations are far too high for you, even I didn't treat your father the way I see him treating you. It's unfair, but I can't step in for them and tell them how to raise their own son._ Richie starts sobbing, clutching harder onto the letter. _However, I don't want this to lead you down the wrong path. Focus on the good in your life, son, and live it strong and proudly. I saw your notebook, Richie. It was wide open. I saw those pink, purple, and blue colors you've been drawing recently- from flags, to hearts._ Richie begins blinking rapidly, shaking even more. _Don't worry, my Richard, I'm not upset, I'm not mad, no, I would never discourage you from loving who you love. In fact, I'm proud of you my son, I have never been prouder. So what? You love girls and boys. That just comes to show that you give everybody a chance to be and feel loved. You simply love love in in itself. There's nothing wrong with that._ Richie's sobs continue to fill the room, tears trickling down his cheeks. _As you know, I'm getting worse and worse with whatever illness it is that is consuming my body, and I want you to know that whatever happens to me, that you'll promise me that you will continue living on and achieving great things that this glorious world has to offer. I want you to find someone that you want to spend the rest of your life with- someone that_ _cherishes you as much as you cherish them. This is what I want you to achieve next, but of course, don't let this get in the way of school. Your education comes first. Lastly, son, always remember: Whatever you choose to become. Whatever road you choose to take. Whoever you decide to love, you will find your someone."_

_With love, Dan._

Richie gently folds the letter back and walks over to his desk, placing it in his notebook hidden under a board. Richie removes his black frames and finishes wiping his eyes. For a good while, Richie remains standing, thinking about his grandfather's letter. _Fuck, I miss him so much. He knows, he knows that I'm bisexual, and he doesn't fucking hate me for that. I could have told him, I could have came out to him, we could've talked about that shit._ He sits back up on his bed, and glances at his clock. He has enough time to shower and do anything he wants, as Bill's Christmas party doesn't start until 6:30 p.m. He heads down the hall and opens the white bathroom door. He gets into the shower and finishes his crying. While in the shower he realizes that his grandfather is right. No matter how neglected and alone his parents make him feel, he must continue on his life looking at the positive aspects, and grow from there. He decides that this is what has to be done, and if he doesn't do this for himself, he does it for his grandfather and the losers.

Richie decides on his outfit; black jeans, a plain white shirt, his dirty white converse, and, of course, a red and green striped Hawaiian shirt to go over his shirt. "Festive", he says. He gives his hair a quick fluff, puts on his coke-bottled frames, and applies deodorant and his favorite lemon scented cologne. He lays back in bed, deciding to listen to music and flips through a variety of new comics he found at a thrift shop the weekend before. As time slowly goes by, he looks at the clock once again, _6:00_ , and decides that he should go pick up the small freckled boy for the party. Before he heads out, he grabs his brown coat and his black beanie this time. December's temperature is unforgivable.

He finally reaches the asthmatic's house, and gives it a knock three times. Only five seconds later does the boy open the door. Richie looks at the smaller boy, who is wearing his same converse from the other day, blue jeans, and a black coat this time. Around his neck he has a light pink scarf. Richie finds everything about this strange boy adorable, and gives him a gentle smile. The other boy returns it as well. "Hey, you ready?" The tall boy speaks. "Never been more ready", the other boy giggles. "Do you have your own bike, or do you need me to give you a lift again?" Richie asks. "Uhhh, I do, but it's flat at the moment, so I can't really use it." Eddie knows fully well that his bike in his garage is in perfect condition, but he so badly wants to ride with Richie again, he doesn't understand why that is, but it just is. "Darn, well that sucks for you, but maybe I can fix it sometime." Richie and Eddie have their eyes locked on each others, and it feels like they remain like this for what seems like an eternity.In another British accent, Richie finally breaks the gaze, "Anyway, well c'mon now, good sir, we can't be late". Eddie simply shakes his head and follows the boy to his bike. As the boy bikes his way to Bill's house, Richie hopes Eddie's hands can't feel the loud thumping his heart is producing. Eddie catches a sniff of lemon coming off from the taller boy, and he can't deny the fact that he loves it.

Eddie glances at the four other bikes as Richie knocks on Bill's door, much harder than he did Eddie's. "Open up fellows, it's the FBI", he says in an even deeper voice than his original. "Richie shut up", theboys hear come out of a boy as he opens the door. Eddie sees a boy, about the same height as Richie, slender, and with curly hair. Stanley's eyes widen, "Who's this and why is he here-actually just come in both of you." Richie pumps his fist at Stanley's, then grabs Eddie's hand as he guides him inside the house. Eddie is greeted with a house that looks far too nicer than his own. The furniture in the house matches almost everything in the house, and then Eddie's eyes look down at four other teenagers sitting in a circle by a fireplace; Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, and Ben Hanscom. They look at each other, then up at Richie with a confused expression.

"Hey dudes, I hope you guys don't mind that I brought along a friend". Eddie smiles at Richie's last word. Beverly speaks first, "Yeah that's fine, we don't mind at all, we just didn't expect it." "Expect what?" Richie growls. "Nothing dude, relax" Beverly replies. The losers stand up and walk over to Eddie. "I'm Beverly, that at the door is Stanley, this is Bill, he lives here by the way, that's Mike, and that cutie over there is Ben." Ben blushes at this. All the losers give the smaller boy a warm smile, and Richie gives him a gentle shove on his shoulder before they all sit back down in a circle. Eddie decides it's safer to sit next to Richie, so he does. As Richie removes his coat, Eddie does the same.

"So", says Mike, a little too excited, "What's the plan or whatever." Bill responds, "Ok g-guys, here's th-ththth-the plan, first, we'll b-bb-bake cookies, but we HAVE t-to clean after, or my m-m-mom will g-get u-u-upset. T-then we'll play s-ssss-some random ass Ch-Christmas games, and then we'll w-w-watch some Christmas film." "Wow, sounds lame", Richie says annoyingly, crossing his arms. "Well then what do you decide we should do, dipshit?" Stanley protests. "Chill the fuck out stan the man, I'm joking, sheesh", then looks at Bill, "But I bet if I give your mom a goo-" "Beep Beep Richie", the losers interject.Eddie and the rest of the losers laugh. Eddie thinks he likes the boy with the thick frames. He has a witty sense of humor, he speaks a lot and whenever the fuck he wants to, and best of all, he's handsome. Eddie tries to drown out the last part from his thoughts.

So, just like Bill had said, the losers, now including Eddie, all get together and bake chocolate chip cookies that Ben had bought that morning. Beverly smears some dough on Ben's mouth, Mike gives Stanley looks that make the other losers wonder why the hell they aren't just dating already, and Bill hums to the Christmas music that plays over the radio. Richie helps Eddie feel involved and they occasionally touch hands by accident when grabbing dough to roll into circles. However, no one mentions it.

It's now 8:00, and after various rounds of "Name The Holiday Tune" and "Charades", and pizza slices, Bill walks up to the squared television box and inserts "Gremlins". Mike and Stanley are situated on the ground, leaning against the front of the couch. Ben is helping Bill set up the movie, leaving Eddie, Richie, and Beverly sitting on the couch. Richie turns towards Eddie asking, "Hey Eds, you never actually talked to me about yourself, or to any of us for that matter, so what's your story, dude?" Beverly notices that Eddie's fanny pack was on the ground, open, exposing the ingredients on his inhaler. As she winces at the damn thing, and before Eddie can answer Richie's question, she says "Wait, new kid, you know your inhaler is bullshit, right? It's a gazebo." Eddie immediately frowns. His cheeks turn red, and he looks between Beverly and Richie. He notices that the rest of the losers stopped what they were doing and have their eyes on him. The asthmatic boy's eyes begin to water and he quickly removes himself from the couch. Richie looks up at Eddie with worried eyes, but before anyone could say anything, Eddie grabs his coat, fanny pack, and rushes out the door.

"Nice going, Bev" is all Richie can say. Beverly gives Richie an angry look. "What, Rich? You're mad at me, now? I was just tryna tell the kid that his medication is shit, I didn't do it to make him piss off, for fucks sake." Annoyed, Richie gets up, grabs his coat, and goes outside. He quickly hops onto his bike and pedals towards Eddie's house, where he assumes he's walking to. It doesn't take Richie long to catch up to him. "Eds, stop!" Eddie quickly looks back, "Stop fucking calling me that, Richie!" and proceeds to walk home, quicker now. "Eddie please! I'm sorry about that just- fuck, stop for a second!" Eddie finally stops walking, and Richie is now in front of him, his legs on the ground, stopping his bike from going anywhere. From the way that Richie sees Eddie, he can tell that the gloomy boy had been crying. Eddie wipes his eyes with both hands, and with a tremble in his voice, says, "Look Richie, I don't wanna hear you make fun of me, just fuck off". Before Eddie can continue wiping his eyes, Richie takes the small boy's hand in his, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Eddie looks at Richie with these daring puppy eyes, and for a second, Eddie just wants to kiss the life out of the tall boy. How he wants to kiss him out of pure rage and simply because he could not give a single fuck at that moment. But he doesn't. Instead, he removes his hand from Richie's grip and gets on Richie's bike. Lemon, thinks Eddie. The whole bike ride is in silence, and all Eddie can think of is _where the hell are we going?_ Richie finally comes to a stop.

Eddie quietly speaks up, "If you were planning on taking me to my house, I'm sorry to inform you, but, this isn't my house, you dummy." Despite this, Eddie hops off, as does Richie. "I know, Eds, this is my house." Eddie gives him a glare for calling him what he said he clearly doesn't want to be called. Richie takes Eddie's hand once again, and guides him away from the snow, and into his house. _Thank fuck Went and Maggie aren't home._ As Richie leads Eddie upstairs, he looks at the frames hanged on the walls. Some pictures look like they belong to Richie's face from when he was a baby, others from when he was a kid. There's one where Richie is sticking his tongue out, blue from a lollipop in his right hand. Eddie smiles, but he quickly regains his angry expression, because he's not showing Richie his nice side right now, or, at least not yet. "What the fuck are we doing here?" Richie opens his door, exposing his room. Eddie looks around, fond over the excessive amount of posters hung on the wall, and then looks at the green lamp."C'mon dude, sit and talk to me about- you know, your medication or whatever,or shit, talk to me about anything actually." Eddie takes a seat next to Richie on his bed, and takes a big breath in, and then out.

"Okay, look, I know that my medications are complete shit, my mom is fucked. She has some syndrome by proxy or whatever the fuck it's called" Richie interrupts, "Munchausen syndrome by proxy." Eddie nods his head, looking away from Richie, and stares out the window instead. Eddie speaks again, "My dad passed away when I was really young, and it fucked up my mom even worse. We still stayed where we lived at the time, she did it for me- until she couldn't deal with it anymore. That's why I'm here now. We moved." Richie can tell that Eddie is tense and nervous, so he grabs his hand once again. This time, Richie becomes brave, scooches closer, and intertwines his fingers with the freckled boy. Richie hopes to god that Eddie doesn't get upset by his action. Instead, Eddie looks back at Richie, and he gulps.

"Eddie, I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry. That sucks." Silence fills the air for a good while, until Richie breaks it, "Wanna know something? My parents are fucked, too." Eddie squeezes Richie's hand, signaling him to proceed. "My parents are so authoritarian, they expect me to be good all the fucking time. I can't make any mistakes or my consequences become worse." The tall boy removes his hand from the smaller one's, and he takes his coat off. He rolls up his shirts, exposing a bruise on his deltoid. Eddie gasps. He slowly reaches up his left arm, and gently lays his hand on Richie's bruise. "Oh my god. Rich, oh my god."

"I know. I'm tired of it, I just want to leave this place forever." Eddie takes both of Richie's hands, and smooth's his knuckles in a nice motion. Richie begins to cry as he thinks about his grandfather. He really wishes he was alive, giving him the support he misses badly. For now, Richie thinks Eddie is doing great at supporting him- no, _really fucking amazing._ As soon as Richie removes his glasses, Eddie puts his hands on Richie's cheeks, wiping his tears away. Richie looks at Eddie with pleading eyes, and Eddie gives him a sympathetic smile, exposing dimples that Richie hadn't noticed before. Richie laughs. Eddie feels embarrassed, quickly brings his hands back down, and defensively says, "What?" Richie continues to laugh, "Nothing, you're just ridiculously adorable, Eds. I haven't seen anyone this adorable, like, ever. Crazy rig-" before Richie can finish, Eddie puts his hands back on Richie's cheeks, and dives in for a kiss. This catches Richie in surprise, his eyes wide open. Eddie's mouth messily moves against Richie's, wanting to remember every bit about him- as if he would never see the taller boy again. Just as quick as it began, it quickly came to a stop. Eddie quickly stands up and runs down the stairs, and out the door. Richie is still sitting on his bed, a million thoughts circling his head. The most important one being, _what the fuck, what the fuck just happened._ For Eddie, the only thought that circulates his mind is, _he didn't kiss back._


	3. The Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *possible trigger warning* physical abuse, not too graphic i think. and homophobic slurs.

_Dec. 23rd, Sunday_

Richie is standing in front of the ginger's house, tapping his foot anxiously on the floor. He wants to show Beverly his grandfather's letter. No, he _needs_ to. "You better open this damn door, Bev." He whispers. Finally, he hears footsteps approach the door. "Oh, you hear to scream at me again, Trashmouth?"

Richie apologetically smiles, then smirks and laughs, "No, actually, I'm here to give you this paper informing you that you have genital herpes, signed by yours truly." The redhead smacks the curly haired boy upside the head. His glasses tip to the side. "Oww! You asshole." Richie adjusts his glasses.

Beverly looks at Richie with a victorious smile, "Why are you really here, Rich?" Richie welcomes himself inside the house without answering, so Beverly follows him up to her room.

They sit on the ginger's bed. "Okay, so you know how- how my... my grandfather passed away?" Beverly nods her head and brings up her hand on Richie's back, moving it in a circular motion, "Of course." "Well" Richie breathes out, "He wrote me a letter that I didn't bother reading, and ever since he- he died, I didn't want to _ever_ read it." Richie moves his eyes from Beverly to the door. Beverly glances at the letter in Richie's hand, quizzically. "I don't know why, but I finally read it yesterday, and the only thing I regret about doing that was that I didn't read it the second my mom gave it to me. Fuck." The boy feels his eyes heat up, so he quickly wipes his eyes before letting a single tear leave their respective place. He hands the redhead the letter, saying, "Read."

Beverly takes the letter from him, the only sound filling the air at that moment being the letter unfolding. While Beverly reads, Richie looks around her room. It looks like she's cleaned up a little bit. Her magazines are no longer spread all around the floor, but are now stacked up nicely at the side of her nighstand. Her small closet is open just enough to showcase some of her flowery dresses, jackets, and the smallest amount of jeans. Beverly has always preferred dresses and her brown boots, even in this cold wrecking weather. _"It's the price you have to pay for beauty,"_ Richie remembers her saying one time. Richie thinks she's always beautiful no matter what she wears. _Ben is one lucky dude,_ he thinks. He loves her best friend, but he's always considered her as his big sister. He's grateful for her, always has been. He tells Beverly everything. She was the first person he came out to two months ago. The rest of the losers knew just a week later.

Richie's thoughts are stopped once he hears sniffling coming from the right.

"Richie, Rich this is- this is amazing but sad at the same time, shit." Richie smiles and looks at his best friend, waiting for her to finish speaking. "Fuck your parents, seriously, and he knew you were- you know-" "Bi", he finishes for her. Beverly continues,"Yeah. That's crazy. And he was all nice about it-"

Richie interups again, "And I wasn't there to talk about it with him when he would visit me. He's seen me and he knew and he never brought it up. I wasn't there to listen to his useful ass advice. Bev, I wasn't there. We could've talked about- No, I could've finally had a family member that I could come out to, but I didn't. I FUCKING DIDN'T AND THAT'S BULLSHIT, IT'S FUCKED!" Richie sobs throughout.

Beverly doesn't like to see Richie so deprived like this, she hates it. "Oh, Rich, I love you" she reaches over and hugs the boy. Richie's body warms and he hugs her back, sobbing into her neck while Beverly runs circles on his back. Richie likes this. He likes affection, yet he hardly receives it. His parents never hug him, let alone say three simple words: _I love you._ Every time that Beverly hugs him, Richie likes to imagine himself at the top of a green hill filled with endless flowers. From poppies to roses, and daisies to carnations. Richie is in the middle of them all. This is how Richie sees himself there: first, he smiles and spreads his arms into the air, and then he laughs. It's a laugh of relief and acceptance, and everytime he laughs, the flowers that are spread all over the hill wave back and forth. He wishes he could stay there forever.

After a moment of staying like this, they finally separate.

"Hey, you're okay. It's not your fault. How were you supposed to know that he wouldn't lash at you if you did? If he saw those drawings of yours, he should've brought it up to you. You're completely right on that. But fuck, Richie, what if he didn't want to do it out of respect. I think he didn't say anything because he wanted to wait for you- for when _you_ were ready to say something. Richie, he respects you, I can tell."

Richie looks down to the floor, then back up at Beverly's blue eyes. "Wow... maybe you're right, but it's still completely fucked. I wish there was a sign- something that made me realize that it would be okay."

Beverly re-reads the last few lines on the letter, "The last lines are nice, don't you think? He says you'll find someone. That's fucking cute, dude." Richie laughs, "Yeah, I hope he's right Bev, I really fucking do. I wanna feel loved, like whatever the fuck you and Ben have. It looks nice." Beverly smacks her lips, "It is nice...you'll find someone soon, I promise, Rich." Beverly and Richie look at each other, then burst out laughing for no reason. That’s Beverly and Richie for you.

"Also, y'know that boy, Eddie, the one that I invited to Bill's Christmas party yesterday?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"Well, after I ran after him we biked to my house, and we like- he talked to me about how shitty his mom is for giving him placebos or whatever. I talked to him about Went and Maggie, too. And I just- I know this is crazy and everything- I mean for fucks sake I just met the kid the day before." Richie starts fidgeting with his fingers. "After you left, I found him wheezing. I was scared, so I carried him and took him to the pharmacy. I swear he was the prettiest human I've ever seen, though. Like as soon as I saw him I wanted to hug him and kiss him and-" Richie gasps. "Bev, my point here is that after we talked about our parents he grabbed my face and kissed me. It was a kiss that I'll never forget. It was messy. Eddie didn't give a shit he just- he just kissed me, and I didn't kiss him back. And then he ran and _left_." 

"Woah... holy shit, Tozier. Why'd he do that? There must have been something that happened for him to do that. Boys don't just kiss boys whenever the fuck they feel like it. I mean c'mon it's Derry."

Richie focuses, then the realization hit him. "I know but- Oh my god, I called him the most adorable person ever. _Fuck_."

"Well, there's the answer, idiot." Beverly laughs, and Richie playfully shoves her in defeat.

Before Richie leaves the ginger's house, she asks, "Do you like him?"

"What?"

"C'mon dude, the kid. Do you have a crush on Eddie Kaspbrak?"

"W-what, Bev don't be ridiculous I just met him. I don't know a lot about him, either, what the fuck?"

"Okaayyyy, whatever you say sweet boy."

"Fuck you, Bev", Richie flips her off. Bev laughs and shuts the door.

Richie bikes his way to Stanley's house. He asked Beverly if he wanted to go to "Ruby's Record" a record shop, but she declined saying that she was going to watch some " _stupid alien movie_ " that Bill and Ben are dragging her to.

The sun was out today, just enough of it to warm the town of Derry, so the losers wanted to take advantage of that by going out.

"Hey, Sta- wait you're not Stanley. Last time I checked Stanley didn't look this handso-"

"Beep beep Richie," Mike finishes. Mike moves to the side, allowing the tall boy to get in the house. Stanley is sitting at his dining room table, flipping through his bird book. He has pictures of birds of different species plastered on the pages, along with a bit information about each one, and the date in which he spotted them.

"Nerd alert" Richie laughs. He's said this to the other boy since Freshmen year every time he spotted him doing "bird stuff", and he hasn't stopped since.

"Shut up, Richie", stanley snaps.

"You two lovebirds up for going to “Ruby's Records” with me. A friend of Ben's dad works there, and guess what's cool about that? He's gonna get me Queen's new album "The Miracle" before they release it next month. Isn't that fucking amazing. He knows how much I love them and I'm getting that fucking vinyl and you two are coming with me."

"Wait, really?" Mike walks toward Stan and Richie, appalled at Richie's words. "Oh, and for the record, me and Stanley are not dating, so don't _lovebird_ , us, dude." Stanley looks at Mike and winks at him with a smirk. Richie notices.

"SEE WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! WHAT ABOUT THAT IS HETEROSEXUAL TO YOU, MIKE!?" Mike and Stanley laugh.

"All right, Richie, we'll go with you to get that damn album- that's really cool by the way", Stanley says.

"Yeah yeah stan the man, trust me, I know." Richie pats both boys on the shoulder. Once Mike and Stanley put on their winter gear, they make their way out the door. All three boys hop on their own bikes, and they make their way to the record shop.

"Oh my god, thank you so much bro- sorry I mean sir. This is so rad!" Richie is holding _"The Miracle",_ flipping and turning it to inspect every inch of it. Mike and Stanley watch in awe. They're happy that Richie is happy. They know that Richie can be an asshole and uses humor way too much, but they know that Richie can be a fragile kid sometimes.

The old man laughs, "No problem, kid. You deserve it. I don't know any other kid that rambles to me about how " _fucking amazing_ " Freddie Mercury is, than you do." Richie laughs and then asks about the price. The man says that he should take it as a christmas gift. Richie smiles, exposing his beautifully white teeth, and hops rapidly in place, thanking the man about a million times. Mike and Stanley look at other vinyls that are displayed thorughout shelves.

After high fiving the man, the three losers head outside.

"That was fun, but me and Mike are gonna head back to my house, you can come if you want, too?" The jewish boy asks. That's when Richie notices a familiar wavy, brown-haired boy walking out of the pharmacy just in front of _Ruby's Records._ He's wearing brown khakis this time and has the red coat over his green polo. Richie looks back up at Stanley.

"Thanks, Stan, but I'm gonna pass. I've got a date with your mom tonig-"

"Beep beep Richie", Stan and Mike say at the same time. The boys wave goodbye, leaving Richie standing in front of Eddie, the road separating the two of them. As soon as Eddie finished stuffing medication and bandaids in his fanny pack, he looks back up, leaving his and Richie's eyes connected. Before Richie can smile, Eddie quickly glances away and heads home. Richie can't tell if Eddie looks sad or not, but he takes this as a sign that the boy wants to be alone, so he lets him be. Richie bikes at a slower pace, as to not catch up to Eddie. _He just had to live two blocks from me, huh._ Richie scoffs.

Richie arrives home. Went is sleeping on the couch, leaving the TV and Maggie's cooking the only noise filling the house. Maggie ignores Richie's presence, simply waving her hand at the tall boy while her eyes are focused down on her cooking.

Richie runs upstairs, tripping on the 4th step, using his hands to land in less pain. He makes it to his room and drops the plastic bag carrying his album onto his bed. Quickly, he takes out his brown record player. His grandfather had gifted it to him when Richie turned 13.

The boy carefully removes the vinyl from it's place, and places it in its respective place. Richie figets with the player, when finally, " _The Miracle_ " comes to life. The first song that starts to play is _Party_.

Richie smiles at the sound that fills his room. He shuts his curtains, turns on his small disco ball, and starts dancing in the middle of his room.

"Fuck, this is so good!" Richie laughs. He feels free and alive, but he wishes he had someone that he could listen to this to. It's not until _Khashoggi's Ship_ starts to play when Richie stops the music. He grabs his backpack and removes all his school notebooks and utensils. He places his record player and phono preamp inside, and carefully slips in the album. He heads downstairs. _I'm gonna see Eddie. I want to talk to him. I want to listen to The Miracle with him._

"Where do you think you're going?" Went roars. Richie looks back to where his father is standing; face to face.

"Uh, does it really matter? You don't give a fuck about me so who cares where I'm going, right?" Richie feels a hand slap him on his left cheek.

"DO NOT TALK TO YOUR FATHER LIKE THAT! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF!" Went screams. Before Went can continue to scream at his face, Richie bolts out the door and bikes his way to Eddie's house. The whole way, Richie shakes and tears fall down his eyes.

Richie knocks on Eddie's door and is greeted by a woman.

In an annoyed voice, Sonia Kaspbrak asks, "Can I help you?"

"Uh yeah, is Eddie home?" Richie tries to make his shaking unoticeable, but he fails.

"No. My Eddie-Bear went to pick some things from the market downtown. Why do you care? Why do you know who my son is?" The women defends, crossing her arms.

"Oh uhh- I found him wheezing down an alley and I took him to the pharmacy to get his-" Richie thinks, and looks at the woman with eyes of despise. "We refilled his inhaler, which is actually just a bunch of bullshit that you came up with."

"Excuse me!?" Sonia yells.

"Thanks for telling me where he is. Bye!" Richie quickly hops back onto his bike and pedals downtown, leaving an angry Sonia screaming in the neighborhood.

Upon hearing familiar laughs coming from boys, Richie stops at the end of the alley with the colorful lights illuminating the path. _Henry Bowers and his pussies,_ he thinks. He gets off his bike, and notices that Eddie is on the ground wrapping his arms around his waist again. This time, he's crying, but it's not because he's wheezing. He's crying because Henry's gang is surrounding the boy. Richie grows furious.

"Hey, dickheads, why don't you fuck off!?" Richie yells. Henry, Patrick, and Victor turn their heads around.

"Well well well, we got ourselves another faggot to mess with!" Henry snickers.

Victor and Patrick now have their arms grasped onto Eddie's arms, not allowing the boy to get away.

"I will fuck you up right now, Henry. Don't act like I haven't beat the shit out of you before." Richie removes his jacket and walks closer to Henry, now eye to eye. Henry spits in his face. This is enough for Richie to finally bring his fist up to Henry's, causing the boy to bleed from his mouth and nose. They find themselves beating each other to pieces on the snowy ground.

Richie has Henry pinned down, his fist meeting the mullet-haired boys' face four times before Patrick and Victor drag Henry away from Richie.

"All right, asshole, you won now fuck off!" Patrick screams. Richie stands up, huffing loudly. He removes some of his curly hair strands away from his face, and puts on his coat. He flips the three boys off as they drag Henry away.

"Don't lay a hand on Eddie ever again, fuckers! And Henry, go suck your dad's dick instead, you shithead!"

Richie kneels down by Eddie. He looks tired. Tears stream down his freckled cheeks. "My ribs, Richie they hurt." The small boy cries.

Richie holds the boy and sets Eddie's head on his thigh. He shushes the smaller boy, "It's okay, Eds, it's okay. I'm here." He runs his hand through Eddie's hair, and plants a soft kiss on the boy's forehead. "I've got you, Eddie."

Eddie looks up at Richie, and he feels like it's Friday night all over again. _Well I can only see what's in front of me, but what's there is more than what I thought._ Eddie feels his cheeks flush, but he doesn't hide it anymore. Instead, he smiles at Richie, clutches onto the tall boy's coat, and snuggles into his chest.

Richie's cheeks flush at this. He finds everything about the smaller boy cute and fragile; in a way that he doesn't want anybody to touch him, or he'd break. Richie looks down at Eddie, and the small boy looks back up at Richie, too. _Somewhere in these eyes, I'm on your side._

After a moment of staying like this, Richie grabs Eddie's hands and they stand up.

"C'mon Eds, I wanna take you somewhere." Richie puts on his backpack and he hops onto his bike. Eddie grabs his fanny pack, and straps it back onto his waist. _I need to get myself cleaned up,_ he thinks. He sits on the back and tighlty holds onto Richie's waist. His ribs hurt. It feels like his body is being stabbed by needles. However, he feels more confident being around the taller boy. He feels _safer_.

"Don't call me that." Eddie huffs. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to the quarry." Richie smirks.

Eddie has never been there before, and he doesn't care that he didn't grab what his mom had asked for. It was 7:45 p.m., and the only thing he cared about in that moment was that he was going somwhere with Richie. _Richie Tozier, I think I like you. This is the second time you've found me, and saved me. I want to save you whenever you're in trouble. I want to love you. Do you think we can do that? Do you think we can love each other like that? I hope we can._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to focus a bit more on Richie and his friendship with some of the losers. Their relationship is really important but don’t worry, next chapter will focus on Richie and Eddie’s relationship a lot more :)


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